


Fever

by NotThatSpooky



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Fluff, References to Illness, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotThatSpooky/pseuds/NotThatSpooky
Summary: Pidge comes down with a nasty flu and it's Shiro's turn to take care of her. For better or worse, he finds out her delirious self isn't very good at keeping secrets.





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted this to my tumblr, but figured I'd clean it up a bit and share it here too. :)  
> Enjoy!

Shiro hated seeing her like this, all shivers and fitful sleep. If ever he needed a reminder of how small their resident genius was, this was it. But tiny or not, she’d fight tooth and nail before letting anyone – or anything – get the best of her. 

Maybe that’s what made it so hard.

Propped up by her pillows and bundled in a cocoon of blankets, only Pidge’s disheveled head poked out the top. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she didn’t sleep.

“So cold,” she murmured. She wriggled in an attempt to burrow herself deeper, but resolved to clutch the blankets even tighter to her ears.

Shiro set the bowl of broth he’d walked in with on the nightstand beside her and sat at the edge of her bed. He peeled off his glove and touched the back of his flesh hand to her forehead – still burning up – and the lines between his brows got that much deeper.

Officially, the team took turns watching over the Green Paladin. In reality, it was a struggle to keep everyone from popping in out of turn.

This time it was Keith and Hunk, their shadows from the open door stretching to the bed. If they were trying to be sneaky, they were doing an awful job, no matter how quiet they were.

Shiro turned to them with a frown. Both were donned in their armor, Keith crossing his arms and feigning disinterest while Hunk pressed his forefingers together.

Shiro kept his voice down. “Aren’t you two supposed to be out patrolling?” he asked them and neither could keep the guilt from their faces.

Hunk shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then whispered back, “Yeah, but…”

“She’s the same as I told Lance thirty minutes ago. If there’s any change, I’ll let you guys know. But we all still have work to do.”

Hunk’s bottom lip started to quiver and his eyes turned glossy.  
Shiro heaved a silent sigh and got up, careful not to shift the mattress too much.

He braced an elbow on the door frame and leaned towards them.

“She’s okay,” he said gently, “I know we’re all worried, but she won’t get better any faster with everyone hovering over her. She just needs rest right now.”

Hunk nodded, though the tears in his eyes still threatened to spill over. Keith stole a glance at Pidge before giving his patrol partner a sympathetic pat on the back.

“Come on, big guy,” he said, a hint of reluctance seeping through his cool facade, “Let’s go.”

They both turned away then, dragging their feet.

“But when is it my turn?” Hunk complained as their leader shut the door behind them.

With only a nightlight to counter the dark of her room, Shiro took the path they'd cleared through Pidge’s floor of oddities and took his place back beside her.

Her eyes were open now, though just barely, and she looked at him like she didn’t quite recognize him.

He smiled softly in return.

“How’re you feeling, Pidge?”

“Mmm,” was all that came out, a discomforted moan.

“Not any better, huh? Do you think you can drink this?”

He took the bowl in his hands and held it on his lap. She stared at it longer than was probably necessary and moaned again in weak protest.

“I know you don’t want to, but do you think you can try? Allura said you didn’t eat anything earlier. You need something in you besides just juice, you know.”

She groaned again and all but buried her head in her blankets.

He unraveled her just enough to uncover her head properly and lifted a spoonful towards her.

She glared at it as if trying to will it away with her mind, then eventually turned her ire on the one holding it.

“Come on,” he encouraged her gently, “Just a little. You’ll feel better.”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed at him even more, but she opened her mouth just enough to comply.

“'Atta girl.”

She let him touch the spoon to her lips, then half sipped at the broth and half let him pour it in her mouth.

He was so gentle with her, like she was a baby or a kitten. She couldn’t say she didn’t like it. It was just… different. Not that he was ever heavy handed with her to begin with. But now that she was sick with this dumb alien flu, it became even more apparent.

“One more,” he said, and she sipped with a new-found enthusiasm, for no other reason than to get it over with. “There ya go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

His smile felt almost patronizing and she tried to scowl at him. Her body seemed to think it was in fact “so bad”, but so far seemed willing to keep it down at least.

He started gathering her stash of empty juice packs on the bed and floor and stood up.

“I’m gonna get you some more juice and an ice pack. Hang tight, ok?”

She nodded, slowly, and snuggled into her blankets. If only her headache would go away. Then this wouldn’t be so bad…

She closed her eyes, blinking, but she must’ve drifted off because when she opened them again, Shiro was back and opening one of the juice boxes for her.

He held it out to her and one of her pale arms snaked out of the cocoon to grasp it. She slipped it inside with her, adjusted her blankets a bit so she could hold it without effort, and lazily sucked at the straw while Shiro situated the ice pack on her head.

“Good?”

“Hm,” she said, an affirming noise this time.

–

He had another few hours before the end of his shift and took to napping on the floor, his head propped against the bed once she fell back asleep. But not before fishing out the carcass of a juice pack from her little nest.

At least she wasn’t getting any worse, and for that, Shiro was thankful.

It seemed Coran was right…

Movement behind him woke him up, and he craned his head to see Pidge struggling to untangle herself.

She must’ve noticed him stirring.

“Gotta pee,” she mumbled, her voice weak, and he helped her out. In an over-sized shirt she’d probably stolen from someone, a pair of boxer shorts, and her fuzziest socks, she emerged very much like an actual butterfly from a real cocoon – awkwardly and looking worse for wear.

“Need me to take you?”

“No,” she protested, though she took his arm to help her to her feet. “I can do it.”

She would  _not_  be helpless! Even if she was sick. She refused! And especially not in front of him. Feeding her was one thing, but the least she could do was pee by herself.

Pidge took one of the thinner blankets and draped it around her shoulders before wobbling out of the room. Shiro watched her all the way to the bathroom a few doors over, but kept his distance.

He waited in the hallway, his back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t slept the night before, like much of the team. It wasn’t until late in the morning Coran finally figured out what kind of bug she had after researching tirelessly all night. According to him, it should clear up on its own in a few days, but there was still the danger of her dehydrating or overheating or worse.

Shiro opened his eyes once he felt himself leaning too far to one side. Must’ve dozed off.

He looked at the bathroom door, still closed, the light still on. She should’ve been out by now if she just went to pee.

He walked over and rapped his knuckles on the door.

“You okay in there?”

Quiet.

He pressed an ear to the door.

More quiet, and then the distinct sound of retching.

Vomit wasn’t anything new. Nonetheless, alarm bells still started ringing.

“I’m coming in, Pidge!” he announced, and pressed the keypad, thankful she hadn’t thought to lock the door. He found her bent over the toilet, her face smushed against the seat, coughing.

He knelt down beside her, his hand automatically starting to rub her back. As if on some cue, her body lurched. She tilted her face towards the bowl and retched again though nothing came out.

Pidge moaned and slid back until her forehead was resting on the front of the toilet seat.  She hated throwing up. And her head still hurt. Everything hurt.

She turned her head just enough to look at Shiro beside her. She saw the concern in his face as he ran his hand up and down her spine. She probably looked worse than pitiful.

She didn’t have the strength to get up.

“I’m sorry. I know,” he soothed, “I wish I could do more to make you feel better.”

She wished that too. If there was such a thing as Hell, she was sure this couldn’t be far off.

“Do you feel like throwing up again?” he asked and she tried to shake her head. Instead she just winced. At least her stomach was starting to feel better.

“I’m sorry, Takashi,” she said meekly.

“It’s okay, Pidge. You’re okay. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He picked her up by her armpits and moved her towards the sink. He glanced back at the toilet to check for any blood and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when he saw none. He pressed the flushing mechanism with his foot, then propped his charge against the sink counter.

“Hold onto the sink if you need to. I’m gonna let go for a second.”

She doubled over on the counter and with one hand still just touching her back, Shiro searched the nearby cabinets for towels.

Pidge would’ve given anything to go back to sleep, and she tried to, but he picked her back up and ran the faucet. He checked the water’s temperature till it was warm and wet a washcloth.

She caught a good look at herself in the mirror as he wiped her face.

She wanted to cry.

“Shiro will never like me if he sees me like this,” she mewled and he paused just long enough to realize what was going on.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m sure Shiro likes you just fine,” he said, then washed her hands and arms up to her elbows.

“Noooo,” she whined, her head lopsided, “I’m all pukey and dying.”

“You’re not dying. You’re okay,” he assured her calmly and started drying her off with a towel.

“He’s gonna think I’m gross!” she lamented and turned around to moan into his chest.

He bit his cheek to hold back a smile.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed. Can you walk?”

She nodded awkwardly and he gave her his elbow for balance. Once he brought her back to her room, he let her slump onto the bed.

“Hold on,” he instructed, “Don’t bury yourself again just yet.” And he left to dig through her closet. Lying on her side, she glared at the back of his head while he did, irritated that he wouldn’t just let her go back to sleep.

Eventually, he returned with another over-sized t-shirt and hoisted Pidge back on her feet, this time so she faced away from him.

“Okay, I’m sorry I have to do this, but… I need to change your shirt. Can you lift up your arms?” he asked and she did, though she considered refusing just out of spite. At no point did it occur to her she was letting someone – especially Shiro – even partially undress her.

Likewise, he didn’t give himself the time to dwell on what he was doing or the implications it could have. He was just cleaning her up, he reminded himself.

He pulled the shirt over her head, tossed it in the hamper to be cleaned later, and slid on the new one, only struggling a bit to get her arms through the holes.

“Alright, now you can be a cocoon again.”

She never thought she’d be so happy to hear those words.

He wrapped her up in her many covers and helped her settle back into bed. Once she was situated, she pulled the blankets up over her nose and ears. She couldn’t say why exactly, she just felt more secure that way.

Shiro reached out to check her forehead one more time and sighed; he would need to change her ice pack again.

He gave her a good long look. Normally, she would’ve made a face and questioned him, but instead she stared back. Though for all he knew she was looking right past him. It really was strange seeing her so out of it.

“You’re gonna be just fine, Pidge,” he said finally, unsure if she was even listening. “And you know what? Shiro told me he thinks you’re very cute, even if you are pukey.”

As he said this, she stared deep into his grey eyes and said nothing for several long seconds. Was she coming back around already?

“…No, he didn’t,” she countered flatly and he let himself smile at that.

“He did,” he insisted, “He told me. And he told me he hopes you get better so he can tell you himself.”

She wiggled around in her blankets some more then let herself relax, blinking back impending sleep.

“I don’t think he really said that,” she told him as she closed her eyes, “But thanks, Takashi. That makes me… feel… feel a little better…” Her voice trailed off into quiet, shallow breaths and he chuckled.

As he watched her fall fast asleep, he had to resist the urge to kiss her disheveled head… if only because he knew she wouldn’t remember it.

 

 


End file.
